


You're Doing What?!

by Flywolf33



Series: Angels, Demons, and Hunters [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Beelzebub finally makes an appearance, Castiel is shady af, Crowley and Crowley have a chat, Having a talk, I'll add more tags when I feel more creative, M/M, Sandalphon is still an ass but less so, Supernatural - Freeform, good omens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flywolf33/pseuds/Flywolf33
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have heard some very concerning things and decide to take a peek at what's going on...
Relationships: Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Bobby Singer & Sam Winchester, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) & Dean Winchester
Series: Angels, Demons, and Hunters [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1494296
Comments: 69
Kudos: 330





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Hello!
> 
> Life update nobody asked for: I finally got a job! I clean houses, which I actually enjoy.
> 
> Anyway, here's the next bit! Writing prompts are still in the works, but for plot I needed to do this one :)
> 
> THIS HAS BEEN SUPER EDITED BECAUSE I COULDN'T MAKE IT WORK THE WAY I ORIGINALLY HAD IT I'M SO SORRY IT'S ACTUALLY COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

Aziraphale had been adamant with both sides of Heaven’s war that he was going to stay out. He was done involving himself in Her politics, and after what Sandalphon did to him, he had no stake in their plans. He and Crowley had theorized before that the ‘big one’ would be Heaven and Hell versus humanity, and that’s what had happened last year with the Winchesters, wasn’t it?

When Aziraphale finally recovered from whatever Adaline had given him, Crowley approached him about something Castiel said when the younger angel told them the book hunters needed help. At first Aziraphale dismissed it on principle, but something else Castiel said to him kept popping into his mind.

_“I’m working on a project that will win the war…”_

After discussing it with Crowley, the pair decided to do some investigating. They still didn’t want to get involved but being completely out of touch with the goings-on of the world was no longer a good idea – especially if they were going to continue fraternizing with the Winchesters. They attracted trouble more than Aziraphale attracted the lost youth of the queer community (they had support meetings every Wednesday night at 7:15).

This was how Aziraphale found himself standing in St. James park in London, waiting for another angel.

“I’m surprised you called,” Sandalphon said, appearing beside Aziraphale without a sound.

“I’m surprised you came,” Aziraphale said, glancing around them warily. The last time he’d been here with the Archangel, he’d been kidnapped and nearly executed.

Sandalphon shrugged. “You said it was important, and chose a public meeting place. I don’t sense Crowley sneaking about,” he gave a very pointed look to a pair of people sitting on a bench and another to a man getting ice cream, “and I’m not alone.”

Aziraphale swallowed. “Yes, well,” he fidgeted with his hands. “You said you wanted help keeping Heaven neutral, and I’ve seen some rather concerning things so… I wanted to know what you had in mind.”

Sandalphon’s jaw didn’t drop, but it might as well have for how well he hid is shock – which is to say not at all. “What changed your mind?”

“Spending time around the Winchesters has been an… informative experience.”

The corner of the Archangel’s mouth twitched. “I did warn you.”

There was a moment of silence before Sandalphon sighed. “I don’t know the details of what either side is doing; I just know they’re going to rip a hole in the universe if that’s what it takes to win. With the Almighty not answering calls, a lot of us are just tired of the conflict.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Understandable. So you want a peace keeper.”

Sandalphon sighed. “I’m not even sure that will work anymore,” he admitted. “I fear Raphael has turned this into a personal vendetta against Castiel, who is in turn making it a personal quest to protect his pets.”

A bemused noise escaped the back of Aziraphale’s throat before he could catch it. If either of the Winchesters – especially _Dean_ – heard themselves referred to as “Castiel’s pets”, it would be… interesting, to say the least.

Sandalphon ignored him. “Raphael won’t trust you, of course,” he continued. “Castiel, on the other hand, might tell you what he’s planning if you approach him correctly. He was in Uriel’s division, if that tells you anything.”

Aziraphale shrugged. All he knew about Uriel and her soldiers were that they were typically earth-side spies and soldiers. She’d always been cold and intimidating to him.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I don’t make any promises,” Aziraphale said when he realized Sandalphon was waiting for him to respond.

“If we can stop this civil war, we might be able to bring Heaven back to order.”

“What then?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Aziraphale couldn’t shake the thought that Sandalphon wasn’t being fully honest with him, but that was something to worry about another time. “Well then,” he said, “thank you. I’ll be off.”

“Call me when you know anything,” Sandalphon said before turning and walking away. He vanished into the crowd, and Aziraphale suspected he wasn’t on earth anymore.

He sighed. This was going to be complicated.

Aziraphale headed home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of Crowleys have a compare sizes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am so sorry, but I've completely rewritten the first chapter and it's different, so if you read the version with Castiel and haven't read the new one, please pop over and read it again! It's still not very long but it isn't the same. The Tl;dr is Aziraphale meets with Sandalphon at St. James and they talk about the civil war in Heaven and how Aziraphale might be able to help. 
> 
> For this chapter I tried to minimize the confusion, but since they're both named Crowley, regardless of pronunciation, it turned out to be kind of difficult. I mostly refer to supernatural!Crowley as 'the king' or 'the other Crowley' since this is from Good Omens!Crowley's point of view. Please let me know if there's a way to make it any clearer!

There were so many things Crowley would rather be doing than this, like watching the telly or supervising Aziraphale’s visit with Sandalphon. Crowley didn’t trust the bastard Archangel, but Aziraphale wouldn’t even tell him where they were meeting. He seemed to think the former demon’s presence would discourage Sandalphon from talking.

Sure, Crowley had said. I’ll discourage him from breathing.

So that’s why he was here, in the back room of a bar he never thought he’d come back to, waiting for the new king of Hell to show up. Crowley slouched back in his seat, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles. He rested his head back and sighed.

“Well, if it isn’t Crawley!”

“Two can play at that game, Fergus,” Crowley replied dryly, rolling his head to the side and lifting his shades to squint at the somewhat portly man standing in the doorway. Tho demons flanked him, scowling at the seated being with black eyes.

“It’s _Crowley_ ,” the portly man said.

Crowley dropped his glasses back over his eyes and turned his face back towards the ceiling. “If I knew you were going to mispronounce it, I wouldn’t have let you borrow my name.”

There was a mild sniff of contempt. “You weren’t exactly my boss’s number one fav, Anthony. I needed to give the name my own twist, so to say.”

“Right,” Crowley said vaguely, glancing again at the door again. “We gonna talk, or do business?”

The other Crowley waved off his guards. “Grab a drink lads,” he said.

The demons backed from the room and closed the door behind them while the king of Hell crossed the room and took the seat opposite Crowley. He waved his hand and there was suddenly a half-full bottle of whiskey and a pair of glasses on a side table.

“Craig?” the king asked as he poured the proper amount into the glasses.

Crowley accepted the glass and sniffed it. “Aged?”

“30 years.”

Crowley took a sip and hummed appreciatively. He didn’t enjoy whiskey as much as he did wine, but he had to admit his counterpart had good taste.

“So what brings you Hell’s Finest?” the king leaned back in his chair as he sipped his whiskey and eyed his guest.

“I’ve been hearing some things,” Crowley said casually, swirling his glass. “Thought you might have some insight.”

The king watched him and took another sip. “You want information.”

“Suppose I do.”

The king regarded him carefully before setting his glass down. “Tell you what. I got a man in Israel I’m trying to get to make a deal. An important one. He’s making my men work for it. You go down there and synch the deal for me and I’ll answer some of your questions.”

Crowley scowled. “I don’t kiss anyone other than my partner. No exceptions. And I don’t work for Hell.”

“You really think I’m just going to give you what you want? How do I know you’re not going to go tattle to Dean?”

Silence.

“You think I didn’t know? I have people everywhere,” the king leaned forward, “and you reek of Winchester.”

Crowley wrinkled his nose. “I’m there for Aziraphale. If you think a demon spends time around a family of hunters for the fun of it-”

“Ah,” his counterpart said, raising a finger, “but you’re not a demon anymore.”

Crowley scowled again and didn’t answer.

“I’m the fucking king of Hell, mate. I hear _everything._ You’ve Risen, but you’re not an angel, are you?” the lesser demon rested his elbows on his knees as he stared at Crowley. “You’re an enigma, Anthony, but I know what makes you tick.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Everybody has a weakness. For the Winchesters, it’s family. Castiel, it’s Dean. For you, it’s Aziraphale.”

Crowley lurched upright and sat forward so his face was inches from the king’s. “Don’t you _dare_ threaten _me,_ Crowley,” he snarled, fingers flexing in his lap. “I _made_ you. You _owe_ me. You’d still be strung up on the rack or filing paperwork in Dagon’s office if I hadn’t taken you under my wing.”

Something flickered over the king’s face and he sat back, picking up his glass of whiskey again. “If we’re done comparing sizes,” he said smoothly.

Crowley scoffed as he leaned back as well. “As if I’d give you one bigger than mine.”

The king’s lip twitched. “New deal. For every question you ask, I get to ask one of my own. You ask first, and before I answer I’ll ask my own. You decide you don’t want to answer, we leave them and move on.”

Crowley stared at his counterpart for several seconds before laughing and downing the rest of his drink. “Well played,” he said.

“I learned from the best.” The king refilled their glasses. “First question.”

There was a loud pop from outside the room and somebody shouted. Both men in the room glanced at the door. Crowley took advantage of the momentary distraction to organize his thoughts. The new king of Hell had been playing him from the moment he walked in; that much was clear. He had to admit he was impressed; he knew the bastard would do well in the crossroads business, but he’d had no idea _Crowley_ had his sights set higher.

“Damn drunks,” the king muttered, settling back into his seat. “The boys can handle it.” He waved his hand in a ‘go on’ gesture.

Crowley sipped his drink to stall for another moment. “What’s been going on in Hell since Lucifer hit the cage?”

The other Crowley’s eyebrows rose slightly. “How did you Rise?”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed slightly, but if he wanted his questions answered, he needed to give a little information himself. He didn’t trust the new king of Hell; not in the slightest. The less information he had about his and Aziraphale’s situation, the better. “I’ll answer, but you first.”

“That’s not how this works,” the king drawled with a self-satisfied smirk at his glass of whisky. “I made a deal; my word’s good. I don’t think you’re held to the same code.”

He glowered. “An old spell.”

The other Crowley drank his whisky and waited.

Crowley sighed. “The Winchesters got hold of an ancient spell. It took another angel’s Grace and gave it to me, but somehow I didn’t accept all of it. I don’t know how it worked beyond that.”

“Aziraphale?” the king’s eyes sparkled.

“Answer my question first.”

“You’re no fun. Alright, then. After dear Adam sent Lucifer to the cage, the Princes started quarrelling for power. Beelzebub was an obvious choice, but Azazel had his eyes on a new plan. Beelzebub indulged him, but once the Winchesters killed him – permanently – the rest of the Princes decided they were done and nobody knows where any of them are now. I’m in charge now.”

“I can see that. So… the originals are all gone?”

The king inclined his head. “Now mine.”

“Yes, it was Aziraphale’s Grace.”

“Interesting.”

“What’s Hell’s stake in Heaven’s civil war?”

“Right to the point I see,” the other Crowley said. “What’s your relationship with the Winchesters?”

“Aziraphale likes Singer’s collection. I merely tag along. At least they’re not boring.”

“I couldn’t care less what happens in Heaven; my business is in souls.”

Crowley was quiet for a moment, considering his next question while he finished his whisky. The glass clinked loudly against the table in the quiet room. “How’s the soul business?”

His counterpart leaned forward. “How much of this are you going to tell the Winchesters?”

Crowley shrugged. “Likely nothing. I’m just curious. Always asking questions, me.”

The king let out a bark of laughter. “Very true.” He regarded Crowley for an awkwardly long time before finally setting his own glass aside and folding his hands. “Out of respect for our past arrangements, I’ll tell you more than you’ve asked for. But after this, we’re even. Yes?”

“Deal.”

“I’ve got a partner on a project to gain a massive amount of souls from a previously untapped resource. He needs them to win his war, I need them to power Hell, and he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“What resource?”

Dark eyes glimmered red. “What do you know about Purgatory?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please drop a comment! Comments sustain me. 
> 
> If you _didn't_ like this chapter, please leave me some constructive criticism so I can improve! 
> 
> Please come visit me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/flywolfwriting) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/heather_wolffe)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is watching Dean sleep... and he isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm going to try to finish this one by the end of next week. It's a pretty short one overall so I should have had it done ages ago really... and then I'll get working on the next prompt for this series!

Castiel stood invisible in Dean’s room, watching the hunter sleep. Tomorrow the brothers would be headed to the UK to find the king of Hell’s human remains in an attempt to get Bobby out of his deal. He wished he could do more to help, but he couldn’t risk alienating his new partner this far into the game. He’d tried to convince them to ask Aziraphale and Crowley to do it, but neither of them had answered their phones and the brothers decided it was too important to leave to somebody else anyway.

“Do this often?”

Castiel jumped. He hadn’t heard Crowley enter, but then again his appearances were far subtler than other angels or even demons. He turned around and wasn’t surprised to find Aziraphale standing in the room as well. Both were clearly shrouded against human eyes, just as he was.

“He… doesn’t like it when I do,” Castiel admitted with a little guilt.

“Then why are you doing it?” Aziraphale asked.

Castiel suddenly had the suspicion they were talking about different things.

“Humans are so vulnerable when they sleep,” he said. “I worry.”

An eyebrow arched above sunglasses. “This place is warded against just about everything.”

“But not everything.”

The angel scowled at the intruders. “What are you doing here?”

“Does your boyfriend know you’re working with Crowley?” Crowley asked, and the way he pronounced the name made it clear he wasn’t talking about himself. Fear that quickly turned to anger bolted through Castiel.

“He’s not my-” he stopped. It wasn’t important right now. “No, and he won’t,” he said firmly, stepping to stand directly between Dean and the occult creatures they’d let into their lives. “It’s for their own good.”

Aziraphale’s face darkened. “That sounds like Old Heaven talking.”

“It’s not,” Castiel snapped. “I told you. They fought too hard, lost _too much_ for me to let Raphael start Armageddon again, and they have enough on their shoulders without me adding my own fight to it.”

“Would they approve of the way you’re going about it?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” Aziraphale said. “What you’re doing could put the planet at risk just the same.”

“And you’re working with the king of Hell!” Crowley added for good measure.

Castiel glared at them. “It’s not your right to tell them what I do in my free time.”

Both being gaped at him for a moment.

“I don’t suppose it’s any good asking you to stop,” Aziraphale tried.

“No.”

They shared a look.

“Well then,” Crowley said flatly. “That’s that.”

And they were gone. Suddenly Castiel knew why his ‘disappearing trick’ annoyed Dean so much.

He looked back to his sleeping friend. Would Dean be mad if he knew what he was doing? Almost certainly, if for no other reason than he was working with Crowley. Clearly they weren’t on the best of terms at the moment. He glanced once more at the place the other beings had stood. How did they know what he was doing? How did they know he was working with Crowley?

He needed to have a word with his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please drop a comment! Comments sustain me. 
> 
> If you _didn't_ like this chapter, please leave me some constructive criticism so I can improve! 
> 
> Please come visit me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/flywolfwriting) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/heather_wolffe)!
> 
> Also, my partner just posted [ his first ever fanfiction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25098334/chapters/60801247)! It's a Witcher/Cyberpunk 2077 crossover, so if you're interested in that, please pop over to his page and check it out!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse this time...
> 
> I DO know what I'm doing for the next one, but I make no promises as to when I can get it up. I'm on quarantine this week due to an exposure to a positive Covid case, but I also had a family crisis I've been taking care of over the weekend so I may or may not have time to get it up soon. Hopefully by the end of the month though.

Aziraphale was already home when Crowley returned from his talk with the King of Hell.

“How did it go?” he asked as soon as the former demon closed the door behind him.

Crowley shrugged. “He was surprisingly cooperative,” he said. “He’s certainly come a long way since the last time I spoke with him. King of Hell, still pronounces my name wrong, good at the game.”

“What did he make you give him?”

“He gave me information, I gave _him_ information. Not a lot, don’t worry.” Crowley waved Aziraphale off and reached for a bottle of wine.

His partner blocked him. “Sandalphon came.”

“Yeah?” Crowley tried to dodge around Aziraphale but was blocked again.

“He says it’s become a personal vendetta between Raphael and Castiel. He’s not sure there’s a chance for peace.”

Crowley sighed. “You’re not going to let me drink before we talk about this, are you?”

Aziraphale just stared at him. “What did you find out?”

“Alright, fine.” Crowley ceased trying to get to the alcohol and met Aziraphale’s gaze. “Castiel and Crowley are working together.”

“Whatever for?”

“Souls. They’re trying to figure out how to access Purgatory.”

Aziraphale’s jaw dropped, and then he swallowed. “I think we need to have a word with Castiel.”

“I think we do.”

\----------

Well that went down like a lead balloon.

Crowley and Aziraphale stood in silence in their sitting room, staring at the space Castiel had been in relation to them moments before. Crowley considered picking up his phone and calling Dean that moment just to spite the other angel, but decided against it at the moment.

Aziraphale broke the silence. “So,” he said. “Purgatory.”

“Purgatory,” Crowley repeated numbly, turning to face his partner.

“Armageddon.”

“Armageddon,” Crowley repeated again.

There was another pregnant moment of silence before Crowley spoke. “Want to get absolutely _wasted_?”

Aziraphale emphatically agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short...
> 
> If you liked this chapter, please drop a comment! Comments sustain me. 
> 
> If you _didn't_ like this chapter, please leave me some constructive criticism so I can improve! 
> 
> Please come visit me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/flywolfwriting) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/heather_wolffe)!

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this chapter, please drop a comment! Comments sustain me. 
> 
> If you _didn't_ like this chapter, please leave me some constructive criticism so I can improve! 
> 
> Please come visit me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/flywolfwriting) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/heather_wolffe)!


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